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Wednesday, August 29, 2012

I was recently invited to join a group of people in a
“skills exchange” of sorts. The general idea is that we all have expertise in
something and why not share it with someone else? Then they’ll turn right back around
and teach you something!

I was really stoked when I got the invitation – the sender
(Kelli) is someone I’ve known online for a while through the Chicago Etsy/handmade
scene. I’ve followed her blog for a while and have had a life-crush on her
awesome Urban Farmhouse and quiet, back-to-basics approach to life. Plus she’s
into social justice and service and has taught classes on indoor composting and
other “green your life” skills. YES I WANT TO TAKE ALL YOUR CLASSES ALWAYS YES. I’ve hoped to take some of Kelli’s classes in the past
but things always came up and I’d have to cancel – so I was SET on making it to
the first meeting of this new group. It was on Sunday and it rocked!

After looking up my route to get to Kelli’s house, I
posted in the Facebook event with questions about getting to her house. I knew
how to get there but it involved a couple bus transfers and sometimes people
know an easier method – a single train ride, for example – that works better,
you just have to walk a few extra blocks or something. So I asked, and while
Kelli was working on helping me figure out the best route, another event
attendee (who I didn’t know) told me she lived near my train station and would
give me a ride to Kelli’s. I took her up on the offer and was glad I did.
Carolyn was super kind, funny, chatty and interesting. She said (of Kelli and
her friends), “excellent people attract excellent people” and I agree. Carolyn
described herself as an old-school, social justice type Catholic and we had a
nice conversation about how she knows Kelli and the type of service projects
she’s been working on lately.

We got to Kelli’s house and it was just really nice.
Kelli was warm and inviting – as was her house – and I didn’t feel awkward or
anything. I met her husband Jimmy (super nice, funny and VERY VERY MANLY*) and
promptly spilled water on the floor, which Kelli didn’t make a big deal out of
at all. The other group members showed up, we grabbed some food and sat down in
the sun room (I AM SO IN LOVE WITH THIS ROOM Y’ALL) and started talking about
how the group should work.

Kelli introduced the idea of a gift/need exchange. The
concept is that everyone mentions something they have, and something they need.
What you have/need may be something that you can hold in your hands, it may be
an experience you want or can give, it might be a talent or skill you can share
or learn. Gifts and needs don’t need to match up value-wise and no one should
feel pressure to meet another’s need just because you can. Everyone might not
have a gift or a need every time we meet. For example – I might need help
coming up with a good potluck recipe (if you’re wondering what I brought to
Kelli’s, the answer is a big bottle of wine) but I might be able to give
something I knitted, or a book I’ve read and can loan or give. I might need
someone to go to an event with me and someone else might need help editing
their resume. I might be great at editing resumes but just because I can
doesn’t mean I’m obligated to offer my assistance. The offering should be from
a place of contentment, not obligation or guilt. And sometimes I may not be
able to think of anything I need. We will take care of MEETING needs outside of
our group. So if someone says they want to learn to knit and I say I can teach
them, we’ll handle that outside of the meeting.

We talked about how many of us had been thinking – ever
since we got the invitation to the group – about what our skill might be that
we could share. I know I can do a lot of stuff, but am I an expert at any of
it? What if my expertise is in something less tangible and more theoretical?
What if I’m good at somethng but no one wants to learn it? One by one we asked
questions and gave suggestions and shared what we think we could offer to the
group, and what we’d like to learn or receive. I said that I was mostly in this
for the company because I have so little face-to-face time with friends outside
of work. I liked the idea of learning something and developing relationships at
the same time. So I was pretty much open and would be interested in anything
someone else wanted to share/teach.

After lots of REALLY interesting conversation, we decided
that we’d meet once a month. There were 6 of us that night but its likely there
will be more as time goes on, and everyone may not be able to attend every
month. Each meeting we’d start with the gift/need share. Then we’ll grab some
food (potluck each time), chat and then whomever is facilitating that night
will teach or share whatever it is that they want to teach or share. We agreed
that some things might be very interesting to learn about, but might not be
something we want to commit to learning and taking up. For example, in October
I am going to lead a discussion on selling with Etsy, but it’s not likely that
everyone is going to go start an Etsy shop. Still, everyone agreed that they’d
love to learn about how it works. Our next meeting is in September and we’ll be
learning how to make yogurt and granola. So some of our meetings will be a
skills lesson and some will be more “show and tell” about things we do or are
passionate about.

We plan to do a gift exchange at November’s meeting, and
a cookie exchange at December’s, in addition to whatever topic we’re learning
about that night. We also have topics lined up for November and December, I
think (sorry, I forget what they are) and we decided to leave the rest of the
year open and schedule future months as we go along.

The skills, talents and passions everyone shared are so
cool: green living, meatless cooking, how to play guitar, Jewish faith,
animals, anti-racism, sewing, knitting, arts and entertainment, copy-editing,
community development, parenting, writing and A LOT MORE.

Each person in the group is nice, smart, open and
interesting. I’m already Facebook friends with 3 of them since Sunday! I can’t
wait to get to know this group more, and to learn about a ton of new stuff.

*When I first came
in the house, Jimmy and a friend were drinking beer and playing a football
video game. He felt this was very masculine and noteworthy. A little later he
popped into the sun room to pick up his copy of Twilight, which he’s in the
middle of.

Friday, August 10, 2012

I’ve detailed some of my experiences as a Christian, and
what it was like telling my loved ones that I was turning from the faith. So,
what now? What has changed for me, and what will I believe in the future?

In some ways, I feel free. I feel free to have
relationships with all kinds of people. I wasn't taught that I shouldn't have relationships with non-believers, but that people who weren’t truly devoted to Christ weren’t the best
influences because they would draw my focus from Christ and then it would be
easier for me to give in to sin. You know – if you start hanging out with the
office gossip, you’re probably going to end up gossiping with them sooner or
later. Well, now I hang out with the office gossip. And the office saint. And
all the people in between.

I feel free to do things that I have been taught are
sinful. Getting drunk. Lustful thoughts. Being selfish. Generally, not using
the Bible as my guide through life. It’s not like I want to (or do) go out, get
hammered, go to bed with strangers and ignore everyone all day in an effort to
only fulfill my personal desires. I don't have tickets to Hedonism yet, dang! It’s just that before, those things were to be avoided
completely and any indulgence was considered sinful. Now, I indulge a little.
It’s not like I’ve lost all common sense – those prohibitions made sense to me
because of how they impacted us practically. Being drunk all the time still has
the same practical problems as it did when I was Christian, it just doesn’t
also carry a set of spiritual consequences.

I feel free to explore the side of myself that I kept
quiet, locked up, pushed down. I don’t have a great explanation for what this
side looks like or is all about . . . just that I feel free to be completely ME
without censure. Of course I still consider how my actions impact others, how
they influence my future self. I do not, however, consider what God thinks of
my actions. I feel free to explore friendships with people who live this way.

I feel free to admit things I didn’t want to admit, or
believed couldn’t be possible, because those things didn’t fit into the
worldview and set of beliefs I had chosen. An example – that a woman can have
an abortion and feel loss, yes, but also believe it was the best thing for her,
and not be haunted by it. For the record, I was never a You Whores Need To Stop
Using Abortion As Birth Control type of pro-lifer, I wasn’t even really a Think
Of The Millions Of Lives Lost type of pro-lifer. I was a Look At How It Damages
The Women And Men And Families Left Behind After The Procedure And Why Can’t
You See That This Is A Hugely Profitable Industry That Doesn’t Really Care
About You type of pro-lifer. And I do still believe much of that. I just have a
broader understanding of other after-the-procedure experiences, and believe
that it should be legal. The legality thing is a huge change for me. I used to
be a No Matter What, It’s Never Ok, Ever person. Not anymore.

I also feel loss.

I feel the loss of certainty – who or
what created us, why we’re here, where we’ll end up after death. I feel the
loss of the Christian community. I feel the loss of friendships which have
drifted or become shallow – at least in part because of this change. There were
things I didn’t talk to my non-Christian friends about because I only wanted to
discuss it with someone who would respond with a Christian point of view. I may be left out of those conversations, now, when others use that same
reasoning. I feel the loss of a guidebook for life. I feel sadness when a friend
who used to lean on me as the only Christian friend in her life still wants to
lean on me for that. I don’t know how to tell her that this has changed.

I feel the loss of discussing theology –
which still fascinates me. I feel the loss of being able to speak about problems
within the Church. I have the same concerns about the Church today as I did
when I was devout but now I feel like it’s not my place to discuss them any
longer. Like I have to be a member of the club to discuss the club, even though
leaving the club didn’t magically make me ignorant to how the club works.

There are parts of myself that have become softer and
more inviting. There are parts that have become harsher and less forgiving. I
miss the meditative aspects of prayer. I miss the beauty and complexity and
comfort of scripture. I miss hymns that remind me of my childhood, hymns that
are full of theology (modern Christian musicians you need to pick up your game
like whoa in this respect, seriously). I miss having constant reminders to
better myself (I think most of us could use some reminders), to focus on grace
and forgiveness and mercy and love. I miss having a firm set of standards. Even
when I was trying to figure out exactly what I believed, which interpretation
of those standards seemed correct – there was still a set. Now I’m just out
here, trying to untangle what I was taught, from what I really believe, from
what is being told to me by my environment. Probably one of the strongest
beliefs I held as a Christian was that our human understanding of the world is
flawed and this is why we rely on God. Now I’m on my own and turning off the
belief that my personal understanding and logic may not be enough is very hard.

Yet – even with all those things that make this tough –
it’s where I am. I can’t go back and pretend to believe something that doesn’t
seem believable anymore. That would be tough AND insincere.

I never, ever thought I would turn away from the
Christian faith. Because it was such an impossibility to me – yet I did it – I
think it’s possible that one day I will return. I don’t feel like I ever will, but since the “impossible” has happened
once, why not again? And – let’s say that Christianity really *is* the truth,
and the spiritual concepts of “once saved, always saved” and “once the Holy
Spirit inhabits a person (i.e. once they’re saved), it never leaves them” are
true. Either I was a great fake, even to myself, or I really did get saved, I
really do have the Holy Spirit within me, and that can’t be taken away. So
maybe that Holy Spirit will push me to return. Or maybe I have committed the
unforgiveable sin of turning away, and maybe the Holy Spirit left me when I
made that choice. I don’t know. I don’t know what my future has in store.

I think I will probably look for some positive things to
meditate on – Biblical passages, meditations and scripture from other religions.
Maybe some self-help stuff if I can find something that isn’t too cheesy. I
have no intention of joining another religion. Any religion I choose will be
problematic in the same way – I will have to depend on man’s interpretation of
right and wrong, of their concept of God, on their fallible take on perfection.
No thank you. If I could handle that, I’d just stay Christian.

There it is. I haven’t talked about all the things that
have changed, or all the areas where I have doubt, but I think I said enough.
I’ve struggled in finding accounts of people who were wholeheartedly Christian,
very devout, and turned away. And when I find them, they usually have a huge
axe to grind and went through terrible situations which caused them to lose
faith. I don’t really identify with that. I don’t have hard feelings against
the Church or Christians, at least not any that I didn’t have when I was a
Christian myself. I just don’t believe it any longer. I hope that anyone
reading this feels encouraged to discuss their own story – with me, with
someone. It’s hard feeling like you have to hide this stuff.

Thursday, August 9, 2012

In an earlier post in this series, I mentioned a group of
friends I made through Livejournal, an online journaling/blogging site. Over the years there I had many friends but a
core group of 10-15 women that I became very close to. Most of them are Christian
and this connection between us was strong. I leaned on them, they leaned on me.
We encouraged each other, prayed for each other, discussed spiritual concepts,
things going on in our families, our churches, at work, personal struggles.

A few years ago we all began spending less time online at
Livejournal. Facebook took over (as did Twitter for some of us) or we just
didn’t hang out online anywhere the way we used to. People were having kids,
getting married, changing jobs, moving to new cities and states. Life got in
the way of being online, you know? So we all drifted a bit. It wasn’t as though
we liked each other less – we just didn’t spend as much “time” with each other.
Most of us became friends on Facebook and ended up posting short things about our
lives rather than writing long Livejournal entries.

Probably because of this space we’d all given each other,
it wasn’t as obvious to others that I had been drifting with my spiritual
beliefs. I wasn’t writing about it in Livejournal and I certainly wasn’t
talking about it on Facebook. A few friends might have wondered, but my guess
is they assumed I was just going through a period of stagnation, which happens
to everyone of faith.

When I finally did make the announcement that I didn’t
think I believed in Christianity any longer, that I wasn’t sure where this was
leading – it was a big shock. It was very painful and concerning for my
friends, and I understand why. Our Christian beliefs tell us that those without
salvation will spend eternity separated from God. That’s how I always pictured
it, at least. I never worried too much about burning in the fires of hell as I
believed that imagery was used to scare people into belief, and that’s not what
my faith was about. My faith was about love and service, grace and forgiveness,
mercy and sacrifice. Not fear and threat of torment. For those who never
believed in heaven or hell, it may be difficult to understand the concern of
having a loved one spend eternity apart from God.

The way I was taught, everything good comes from God.
Nothing impure, evil, wrong, bad, negative can reside in his presence – his
presence is so holy that it cannot tolerate anything unholy. So spending
eternity with God means spending an eternity in the presence of everything
good. To be separated from God means to be separated from ANYTHING good. Hope,
love, comfort, happiness, success, forgiveness, mercy, truth – none of that
resides in the space that is separated from God. This is what’s scary about not
being saved – never having any of those wonderful things around you, in your
consciousness, in your life, in your existence – forever. Never even having
hope that one day it might change.

It broke my heart all the time, thinking of people I
loved who would never know this goodness, thinking of them spending eternity
without hope. Separated from God, separated from me. This is what drives many
Christians to spread the “good news”. Not concern over how many people they
“led to the Lord”, like notches on a belt – concern over what that person,
possibly a stranger, would endure for eternity if separated from God. A love
for everyone, or at least an attempt to have love for everyone, and wanting the
very best for them. Forever.

So yeah, I absolutely understand why it hurt my friends,
why it shocked them, why they were worried.

Having said that, it was painful to hear them say they
felt I needed to get back in church so I could be influenced by other
Christians, by the Word. It was painful to hear them worry about how this would
impact our relationship. It was painful to know that they thought (and hoped)
this was just a stage of doubt I was experiencing.

I don’t think there was any way it could not be painful,
though. No one was cruel, no one was thoughtless. It’s understandable that they
were surprised and hurt and worried. I suppose if they had all said, “No big
deal, Ashley. I have no questions or concerns.” I would have been the surprised
one.

I haven’t told many other people. Mostly those who I’m
not very close to, people who didn’t know me that way. A few Christians I know
as acquaintances have offered suggestions of scripture or books to read. The
thing is, I’m not a brand new Christian. I studied theology and ecclesiology
for years, albeit informally. I used to be the person giving suggestions to
others who were experiencing doubt. I know it’s an issue of pride with me, but
it does seriously bug me when people assume I just haven’t read the right Bible
verse, or heard the right sermon, or considered XYZ spiritual concept. I have.
I have. All the months leading up to my “coming out”, and all the months since,
I have gone over this in my head, I’ve talked about it with others. I’ve read
the Bible. I’ve prayed. I’ve looked up articles and books on doubt. I KNOW ALL
THE ANSWERS THAT WE ON EARTH HAVE TO OFFER AND THEY ARE STILL INSUFFICIENT TO
ME.

I’ve met a few people who have similarly been devout and
turned away from the faith, but most of the people I know who have turned away
weren’t very devout in the first place. I’m scared for certain family members
to find out – some because I know they’ll go through the same hurt and worry as
my friends, some because I know they will never stop preaching to me once they
find out, and they will blame any issues in my life on my lack of faith.

Telling people of faith that you have given up
the faith is not easy.Tomorrow: My Future In Faith

Wednesday, August 8, 2012

In my last couple of posts I’ve explained how my
perspective on homosexuality has changed. Today I’ll explain the role it had in
my decision to turn from my faith.

For a couple thousand years, the Christian Church taught
that marriage between different races was sinful and that the offspring from
those marriages would be ineligible for salvation (heaven) for a number of
generations (I think seven was the magical “Ok, now you’ve probably visibly breeded
out any traces of that other offending race by now” number, but I could be
wrong). This belief, though not mainstream any longer, is still taught in some
churches in the U.S. I have no idea what is taught on this topic elsewhere.

These teachings (and things like the slave trade)
influenced those who were in power when the U.S. was being built, and for the
majority of our nation’s existence, marriage between a White person and a
Person of Color (POC) was illegal. Less than 50 years ago, the Supreme Court determined
that these sort of laws were unconstitutional. Even so, as late as the year
2000, there were states in the U.S. with anti-miscegenation laws in effect.

It seems using trusted religious beliefs to scare religious folk/vilify your political opponent is nothing new:

During the years when I was a devout Christian with
conservative beliefs about homosexuality, I disliked comparisons of race and
sexual orientation. I believed that people weren’t born homosexual, but they
were born (insert non-White race) and thus it wasn’t fair to compare the two
marriage/discrimination issues. Even if there were homosexuals who didn’t choose that
orientation, they could still hide it and blend in if they really wanted to –
non-Whites couldn’t. Of course I acknowledged that this would be a miserable
existence, being in the closet, but I also believed that if God said we shouldn’t
do something, we shouldn’t do it. Simple. Easy, no – simple, yes.

I have done a lot of thinking about how we (religious
folk) change our religious beliefs based on the culture we live in. One of the
foundational ideas in Christianity is that God is unchanging and that what
Jesus taught 2,000 years ago applies today. If you’re from a Christian culture
of Biblical inerrancy (believing that the entire Bible, while better understood through
context, is true and relevant to our lives today) the way I was, you aren’t
supposed to just rely on the New Testament. Jesus said he didn’t come to
destroy the Law (i.e. the more hardcore rules we see in th Old
Testament/Torah), rather, he came to fulfill it. I.E. you can't throw out Deuteronomy no matter how much you might want to.

There are arguments that Jesus’ teachings don’t
contradict the problematic Old Testament rules about marriage and slavery; that
Jesus didn’t come to tangle with our earthly laws or politicians (this is
often in response to questions about why Jesus spoke about slavery without
condemning it - wouldn't it have been so much easier if he had?). There are arguments about homosexuality and marriage that are
based on whether Jesus ever talked about the two topics (he didn’t say anything
about homosexuality, he did talk about marriage, divorce and adultery).

At any rate, the Church has been against miscenegation
for a long time and they used the Bible for backing. This faith that is supposed to be resolute, unchanging and our
guide through life – well, the faith got it wrong. Really, really wrong. At
least, that’s what we believe today. This certainly isn’t the first time this
has happened. From priests marrying or not marrying, to forced conversion, to divorce and even whether you can receive forgiveness
for sins through prayer or financial donations – the Church has changed it’s
mind on a lot of stuff, big stuff. Stuff that the Church claimed was From God So We Must Believe
In It.

Centuries later, we can see how wrong the Chuch was on
those things. Now we know the impact politics, power, money, wars, cultural
traditions, etc. had on the Unchanging Word of God. But at the time, things
seemed very much right to the people who were there. Things seemed to have
Biblical backing. Things were taught by the clergy, who were God’s
representatives, and they should know. And those teachings made sense to the
people.

Here’s my point: We keep forgetting that - to use a Biblical phrase - there is nothing new under the sun. Why do we insist on such arrogance, on saying, "I know that every single generation and church before me has gotten some major thing wrong, but I'm pretty sure that this time, finally, WE GOT IT."?! I've been told (and I used to argue) that we can't blame God for man's misunderstandings. But - the only thing we have to rely on is man. It is man who we follow as clergy. It is man who decided what was written down in scripture. It is man who decided which parts of scripture are really from God and which parts aren't. It is man who has taught millions of people that XYZ was a Biblical, Godly thing . . . and it all turned out to be a lie or a mistake or a problem with translation. God isn't going to come down and speak to me himself, so if I am going to learn about God through organized religion, it is going to be through the words and actions of men.

I do not trust the Church’s
interpretation of scripture. I do not trust the way the Church (through
internal and external pressure) has manipulated what we now have as the
Bible. I do not trust that what we have today as a blueprint is what God wanted
us to have, if God really did give it to us. I do not trust the Church that only just (and still not completely)
gave up teaching that my husband and I should not be married. That our children
are doomed to hell for generations. I do not trust the Church that continues to
teach these sort of things about homosexuals. I believe in a century or two our
descendents will think we are as ridiculous as I think people were, only 50
years ago, as they picketed the Loving vs. Virginia trial.

These people were sure they were full of the light of Christ and only saying the hard, unpopular things that needed to be said to protect our society and to be in line with God's Word.

And really, that is the root of it all. I can’t
trust my faith, my Church, my Bible, my clergy, my fellow Christians to have a
good handle of the truth, the real right and wrong of this world. Homosexuality
isn’t the only issue here – my lack of trust is unfortunately spread across the
whole faith – but my change in perception, my growth in relationships with
homosexuals has absolutely impacted my ability to trust my faith. I know there
are people who are able to reconcile what the Bible says about homosexuality
with their personal belief that homosexuality isn’t wrong or sinful. I don’t
know how to do that. I’m not very good at ignoring the uncomfortable parts of
the Bible. In the past, when I came across them, I studied hard to understand what they were about (and the Church has a good explanation for almost everything) and when I couldn't find a satisfactory answer, well, you know . . . God's ways aren't our ways and his thoughts aren't our thoughts. This is the Biblical response when there is just no good answer for what God has purportedly done.

If I can’t trust the homosexuality part, I can’t trust the God part,
the Holy Spirit part, the Jesus part. I can’t trust the salvation part. That's where I am.

Tuesday, August 7, 2012

During my most devout years as a young adult – married,
with young kids – I was active in LiveJournal which is a journaling/blogging
community. I had a personal journal that “friends” could read & comment on
(basically a password-protected blog) and I was also active in some LJ communities that were like
blogs where everyone could post entries along a specific topic. For a few
years, I was very active in the main, largest Christianity community there. I
became friends with all types of Christians as well as some non-Christians,
through that community.

One of my friends was a man I’m going to call Daniel. He
had a gentle personality and would write long entries in the community about
the love of God, questions he had. As time went on, he got more and more
unorthodox in his entries and began referring to God as a woman or as gender
neutral. His theology was clearly not in line with the theology of those of us
in the “biblical inerrancy” club. I was “friends” with Daniel via our personal
journals and in his entries he slowly began to reveal that he was transgender
and working toward a lifestyle transition from man to woman. He’d been married
for something like 20 years, had children that were nearly grown. The changes
he made were devastating to his marriage, family and career. He began referring
to himself with a woman’s name – I’ll use Maria.

There was a lot of division in our online Christianity
community that centered around Daniel and his theology, his choices. He wasn’t
the only person that promoted unorthodox beliefs in the community, but he
seemed to be a magnet for those of us who believed otherwise. It was incredibly
frustrating to see him say things that we considered heretical, and to see
others lap it up. We felt he was leading those who were immature in their faith
in the wrong direction. Additionally, when those on my side of the fence would
post something in the community, we’d often have to go through a ton of debate
about whether scripture could be trusted before we could get to the topic of
the original post. After a while, a group of us decided to form our own
community that laid the ground rules: “You gotta believe what we believe,
foundationally at least, if you want to participate. No more arguing over the
authority of scripture – people here believe in it, now let’s get down to some
real issues.” We didn’t abandon the other community (well, not all of us) but
many of us did spend less time there . . . and less time with Daniel. Daniel knew not to ask to join our special club.

I had a lot of frustration with Daniel about the way he
interacted in the main community, at times it seemed he was intentionally
poking at us, stirring up contention. I think that some of that frustration
bled into my views of what he was going through with his gender issues. At some
point, we stopped being “friends”. I remember trying to find out what was going
on with him later, wondering if he was ok. I thought about how lonely and
scared he was. I thought about everything that he gave up. He lived in a small,
conservative community. He was willing to give up his reputation, his marriage,
his children.

As the years have passed, I’ve thought about Daniel/Maria
and I regret how unloving I was. How unforgiving and hard-hearted I was. I
regret that I decided it was too difficult to watch someone being SO UNHOLY
that I felt I had to cut off my relationship with them.

I now live and work in a much more liberal city. I work
in a very liberal graduate school where Christians, especially those with ANY
conservative beliefs, are the minority. I’ve had the opportunity to be exposed
to so many people across the LGBT spectrum. I’ve attended “difficult dialogues”
where we discuss various issues related to those who identify as LGBT. I’ve
listened to faculty and guest speakers talk about their clinical work with LGBT
clients. I know of some of the non-profit organizations in Chicago that work
with the LGBT community. I have regular, normal friendships with quite a few
people who are LGBT. My online world has also expanded greatly in this respect.
I’m in a degree program at a small, private, liberal arts school founded by a
service & social justice-oriented Christian denomination. Through class,
I’ve become friends with a married lesbian who is active in her church, a
straight woman who advocates on behalf of LGBT individuals for reconciliation
with the church and a gay man who left the church without ever looking back because of how he was mistreated. I know gay and lesbian pastors and ministers. I know of many
Christian congregations that are “open and affirming.” I have gay friends in real life and online, who talk about their experiences and also talk about the same things as me: family, jobs, kids, celebrity crushes, health, etc.

Homosexuality has
been normalized for me. For the first time in my life, when I meet a person
who identifies as LGBT, that isn’t the biggest thing that stands out to me. It
is a part of them, but who they are as a person is more evident. That wasn’t
the case before. Even when I was friends with gay people in the past, we didn't talk about that part of their life much. I have to wonder - were they afraid to bring it up because they knew of my Christian beliefs?

Since moving to Chicago and becoming more exposed to
homosexuals in all walks of life, I’ve been more honest about my beliefs and my
struggles to reconcile how I feel vs. what I’ve been taught to believe. For the longest time I have advocated getting to know people who are unlike you in some way because separation is what allows you to see them as less human, as deserving of poor treatment. I mostly talk about this in terms of race, though. I've had to admit that my lack of relationships with homosexuals, especially as an adult, has greatly impacted my compassion, empathy and overall understanding of what they have experienced.

And you
know what? Everyone has been so kind to me. The people who have spent however
many years being judged treated me with care, even though I very likely offended
them and certainly represented people who have hurt them.

Monday, August 6, 2012

There are a few things that have played a role in my change of devotion to the Christian faith. One I will detail today is the issue of
homosexuality, anything along the LGBT spectrum, really.

As I noted in my last post, for many years I had a conservative
Christian view of homosexuality. Namely, that it is sinful. This issue has
always been one that I struggled with because on my own, I have no issue with
homosexuality. Growing up in Wichita, KS, you’re not going to be exposed to
homosexuality the way you would in San Francisco, but I knew a small number of
homosexuals who were out of the closet. Close friends, family members, co-workers. The churches I went to didn’t focus on homosexuality and there
wasn’t overt homophobia in my life. Still, it was definitely not an easy thing
for the gay people in my life to be open about their sexuality (Kansas!), and
homophobic slurs were pretty common among my high school & college guy friends as insults to one another (Fag!). My
churches may not have focused on homosexuality, but others in our community
did.

For many years I felt torn between how I personally felt,
and what my faith taught me. For a long time I felt content to sit quietly in
the “hate the sin, love the sinner” camp. I didn’t like the Christian belief
that homosexuality was a sin, but I believed that the Bible was inerrant and
that there were lots of things I wasn’t going to be able to understand in this
life. I studied homosexuality from a Biblical context to see if it might be something that could be considered outdated, the way we now view slavery or interracial marriages. I was disappointed to find little wiggle room on the issue, Biblically. I decided God knew beter than I did and I would have to just deal with
that. Additionally, because so much of my faith was grounded in practicalities,
it made sense to me from a biological standpoint that God would have intended
for us to be heterosexual because that is how procreation works. I believed
that homosexuals were not that way biologically.

I didn’t think that “choosing that lifestyle” was really
the case either. Knowing how abuse, early sexual activity, abandonment issues
(and so much more) can shape our sexuality, I believed that homosexuality was
something that developed in a person, likely due to a trauma they’d experienced
at a young age or during their sexual development. I believed those feelings
were exacerbated by our culture’s rejection of people who behave outside of the
norm. For example, there was a little boy down the street from us when we first
moved to Chicago, who displayed “feminine” ways of walking & talking . . . “feminine”
interests (jump rope, playing with dolls, etc). It was common knowledge on the
block that this little boy had ben molested by a male family member. The boys
on the block wouldn’t play with him because he was a “faggot”. To me – his
behavior and sexuality had been pushed onto an unnatural track due to his abuse
and then society (the neighborhood boys) reinforced his desire to be “feminine”,
because they refused to play with him. Who else could he play with, if not the
girls?

But what of the homosexuals who say they never
experienced trauma, abuse, neglect, abandonment, etc? Why were they gay? Did I
really think they decided to take on a life that would have them shunned and
hated and treated as less than equal? As monsters? No, I didn’t think that. I
just had no answer. I thought it was possible they’d blocked out whatever
triggered their homosexuality. Otherwise, I didn’t know, and relegated it to
the “I hope God explains it one day when I’m in heaven” box in my brain.

I didn’t talk about my beliefs with the people I knew who
were gay. They didn’t press the issue even though I was clearly a devout Christian.
During my years away from the church during college, I was vocal in my belief
that there’s nothing wrong with homosexuality, but when I returned to the
church, I got silent again. A few years later, I remember being a member of my
company’s Diversity Team. This was a conservative company in a conservative
industry, and it was tough enough to get people engaged in discussions about
diversity of any type, but when we brought up the topic of homosexuality, the
shit hit the fan. People were PISSED. I remember talking with other team
members – one of whom I think was a closeted lesbian – about how “those guys
just don’t get it.” I was careful to never actually say that I thought
homosexuality was wrong, and careful to never say it was OK. I focused on race and
class issues (which have always been important to me) and I did my best to not
let my liberal friends know that I was going with the conservative Christian
party line on the issue with gay folks, even though I personally disagreed. Or
did I disagree? After so much back and forth on what was right, it was tough to
know what I actually believed. I couldn’t come to any good conclusion and
evenually just left it alone. This was easier to do than earlier in my life
because I didn’t have any close relationships to homosexuals at the time.

Though I never voted on the issue (or campaigned one way
or the other), I did not think that anyone other than one man and one woman
should be able to get married. I thought civil unions were ok because it wasn’t
fair that someone’s partner couldn’t be with them at the hospital, things like
that. I thought, “The Bible says X so if I am going to believe the Bible, how
can I support something that promotes an anti-Biblical stance?” See, everyone
who opposes gay marriage doesn’t think it will impact their own marriage
negatively. Everyone who opposes gay marriage doesn’t think, “Next thing you
know, we’ll be able to marry animals.” For me, it was, “How can I support the
legalization of something that is sinful?” Legalizing it is giving it
legitimacy – even if I don’t want to participate in it. And the belief I
operated under was that God knew better than I. Just as my toddler may not
understand that a hot stove can burn their hand and I need them to JUST OBEY ME
AND STAY AWAY FROM THE STOVE, my belief was that people don’t always know what
is best for them and by following God’s mandates, we are being protected.
Protected, possibly, from things that can harm us in ways we will never
understand, at least not in this life. How could I say that it was ok for
others to go out and sin, to participate in something that MUST be harmful
(otherwise why did the Bible name it as a sin?) when I believed the Bible
couldn’t be wrong about anything?

Friday, August 3, 2012

I attended church regularly, went to Bible studies, was
part of the dance ministry and worship team (singers). I read books, blogs and
articles on religion. I was very active in online religious communities. Via
email and Livejournal, I developed deep and meaningful friendships with a small
group of women and a slightly larger group of men and women – we all shared faith.

I was a mixture of a fundamentalist evangelical, and a
very liberal hippie. The fundamentalist part was that I considered the Bible to
be the inerrant Word of God. I did not believe it should be read literally, without
context, though. For example – my take on the 6-days creation story was that
yes, God started it all. He created it all. But did it only take 6 24-hour
days, the way we measure days today? Most likely, no. There are a variety of
translations of the language used in the creation story that indicate the word
for “days” could have meant much longer periods of time, and if you follow the
creation story you’ll see that the sun and moon and earth weren’t even invented in the beginning, so who was measuring these 24 hours? Ultimately, I believed that it wasn’t
the sort of thing we should divide over or argue with non-believers over. I
believed God made it happen, however it happened. Even if he did it through
evolution! *gasp* So – I was the “Every part of the Bible is relevant and
beneficial to us today but that doesn’t mean we have to read it without context
of history, translation, etc.” type of Christian. I considered this pretty
reasonable and I patted myself on the back for having the perfect combination
of common sense and respect for scripture.

I believed strongly in the Nicene Creed, a statement of major Christian beliefs.

For 8-10 years, there were three main areas where I held
very conservative beliefs. I am going to write about these in this series, so I’m
not going to detail them much now (which kind of freaks me out me as I hate for
you to spend days knowing of my old beliefs and not my new ones). I will say
that my views on each of these issues has changed – some moderately, some
radically.

The first area: homosexuality. The second: abortion. The
third: Men are the head of the household, women are to submit.

I did not hate anyone because
they were gay, had an abortion, believed in abortion rights, argued with their
husband, used birth control, wore pants, etc. I have never cast a vote in
relation to marriage or abortion rights. My voting record is almost all
Democrat, and in recent years, Green. I have voted for Republicans in local
races, mainly where they are the only candidates. In my pro-life stance I was also anti-war and anti-death penalty.

My liberal side came out in social justice. Feeding the
poor. Justice for the oppressed. A disgust for the co-opting of our faith by
politicians and lobbyists who guilt Christians into voting a certain way and
have convinced them that capitalism and ethnocentrism is a tenet of faith.

I focused a lot on personal holiness. To some, this means
“following the rules”or “not sinning”. To me, it meant actively dying to my
selfish nature in an attempt to be more and more like Christ. It meant offering
forgiveness when I wanted to hold a grudge. Praying for those in turmoil.
Learning when to share my faith and when to be quiet and just be a friend.
Turning over every rock in my life and looking to see what needed to be
cleansed and made new. Supporting my church, local and larger communities with my
time and money. And yes, I also focused on personal sin. I feel I was lucky to
have been raised without a fear of sin, without fear of the torment of hell. I
believed that once “saved”, always saved. I believed that being inhabited by
the Holy Spirit meant that there was no reason to fear losing my salvation and
that from that point on, my life was to be about serving Christ and becoming as
much like him as I could. It was not meant to be spent punishing myself or
anyone else over sin. Sin was inevitable – repentence and growth were necessary
and the goal.

Spiritual matters were mostly matter-of-fact in my eyes.
The commandments, mandates or rules God gave us in the Bible were not to kill
our fun, they were to protect us and to help us grow as we struggled through
hardship. For example, not having sex outside of marriage? This was to protect
us from disease and unwanted pregnancy, but it was also to
protect us from heartbreak. From those days when you’re driving down the
street, a song comes on the radio and suddenly you remember someone you gave
yourself to, who totally mistreated you. Like I said – I wasn’t concerned with
being “bad” because I’d sinned. I was concerned with the fallout from sin. I
saw sin as bad because it was bad FOR US. Of course, you can experience
disease, unwanted pregnancy or heartbreak inside a marriage – but it’s hopefully less likely . . . and hopefully you’ll be better equipped to handle those
struggles with your partner by your side.

Don’t think, though, that I was skipping down a
flower-lined path, holding hands with Jesus, perfect in my ambition for
holiness. I never did any of those things above consistently. I went through
periods, sometimes long ones, where I wasn’t praying, studying scripture,
examining myself, serving others, etc. Additionally, I had my own little set of
pet sins that seemed impossible to overcome. One was pride. I was a strong
believer that all sin results from focusing on self above God, in any given
situation. Putting my desires – right or wrong – ahead of what God wants for
me. So there needed to be a daily effort to “die” to myself (a scriptural
concept). The funny thing is that you can become prideful in that. I’M really good at sacrifice. I was also prideful in my scholarship. I know
scripture and like to study it. I don’t think scripture is boring.
I would love to learn Greek and Hebrew. I know what that scripture
is saying and what other scripture it’s referencing. And? I was prideful in my
strength. I am willing to examine myself to eradicate sin, but YOU are
weak and unwilling to do the hard work of admitting you need to change. I am willing to acknkowledge the authority of scripture even if it means I have
to support things I don’t understand or agree with, because I can admit I
don’t know everything and am subordinate to God but YOU are so
self-centered and immature that you won’t acknowledge that you’re not in
charge. I mean, can you get any more ironic? Of course, I kept these thoughts
to myself (well, mostly). I might refer to
something like that when discussing a problem someone is having, with a mutual
friend. It was all done with the best intentions, of course. I say that
sarcastically now but the truth is, I did believe that. I was concerned with
the struggles others went through, but I also had pride, deep down, that I was
strong enough to overcome those struggles.

Thursday, August 2, 2012

I have mentioned in other blog posts, and on Twitter,
that I am currently in a serious state of disconnection with my faith –
Christianity. Mostly I make jokes about not being ready to throw the Baby Jesus
out with the bathwater yet . . . it’s easy to make jokes when you don’t know
exactly where you stand or where you will stand in the future.

The point of this post was to explain where I stand on a
specific issue, in relation to my history as a Christian. It kept getting
longer and longer, though, so I think first I need to give an introduction.
That’s today’s post.

I was raised in Wichita, Kansas, a conservative city in a
conservative state in a conservative region. My parents were moderate liberals,
but they operated within a conservative life and lifestyle. They were raised in
the Church: strict Lutheran for my German/Czech Dad and small-town/rural
Bible-based churches for my Mom, not sure what denomination. My Mom was more
devout and definitely more evangelical than my Dad. I spent time in an
assortment of churches – Nazarene (a conservative off-shoot of the Methodist
church), Lutheran, Church of God (evangelical) and Presbyterian (though this
was a youth group that was pretty separate from the rest of the church so I
don’t know much about Presbyterian theology). These churches were almost all
White. The Church of God had a separate service for the local Korean community.
As an adult, I have been a member of a mostly-Black, gigantic United Methodist
church (which was effectively Baptist due to the way most members were raised), a tiny, all-Black non-denominational “prosperity gospel” church, (a
post for another time!) and I attended a multi-racial Vineyard church, which
was my last church.

I didn’t just go to church, I was a believer. I have been devout most of my life, excusing the years in
college where I decided to put my faith on hold so I could party without too
much guilt. My faith was a very positive and affirming thing for me. I wasn’t
raised to believe in God because I feared him or hell. I was raised to love the
goodness of God. I am fascinated by theology and have spent a lot of time in
biblical study. When I decided to go back to school to finish my bachelor’s
degree, I considered degrees related to theology, ministry. I not only enjoyed
religious courses in college (both times), I chose to take them as electives
while my classmates shuddered at the thought.

For almost all of my married, parenting life (which
started at age 21), I have been actively pursuing my faith, a deeper and more
meaningful relationship with my God, and the ways I could be a better servant
of Christ. My faith, and the relationships with others who shared my faith,
sustained me during really difficult times, especially as Vincent and I were
trying to figure out how to be married. We made a lot of mistakes and we didn’t
end up divorcing because 1) we were too poor and 2) my faith gave me incredible
drive and support to stick it out and figure it out. I suppose what I’m trying
to say is that my faith was very important to me and it played a large role in
much of my life.

Tomorrow: So, what did “my” Christianity look like? What
kind of believer was I?

Sunday, July 29, 2012

So I'm in my hometown of Wichita, KS this week and went to the mall with my sister in law, neice and daughter. On our way out, we were trying to figure out where a certain restaurant is, and I decided to ask a couple mall employees who were on their way out of the building. The woman was White and the man was Black.

The woman said the restaurant was at Harry and Woodlawn and then the Black guy says, "But you probably don't want to go there, there's lots of Black people there."

I laughed and said, "I don't mind Black people - we ARE* Black people." He looked at me like I was crazy and I pointed to my daughter, who is biracial - Black and White. She is fair skinned with freckles, green eyes and red hair - red hair with a kinky, coiled, Black texture. At first glance, many people assume she's just White.

*Let me note that I do not mean to say I think I'm a Black person just because my daughter is, I was saying, "You insult one of us, you insult all of us".

The guy realizes that my daughter is biracial and starts backtracking, but he really just made it worse. "Oh, I was just saying that there are a lot of ghetto people, gang bangers over there."

So . . . he was trying to communicate ghetto and gangbanger by saying Black to me. Awesome. Then he starts touching his hair (which is long, curly & pulled back in a ponytail) and saying how he's "Pretty Ricky". Pretty Ricky is a term used for Puerto Ricans or Black people who look Latino (whether they are or aren't). I take this to mean that he's referring to our whole conversation - Race Can Be Tricky, Y'all - but who knows, maybe I read him wrong. I thanked them for the information and said, "Let's go." Then I ranted in the car for 20 minutes about the way people deal with race in my hometown and scared my sister in law because I was driving fast. Sorry, SIL!

Now - besides recounting this experience, I want to ask a question. I was telling this story on Twitter, and a friend asked me why I use a single racial identifier (Black) for my biracial daughter (specifically I said she is Black-who-looks-White), and whether I ever use "White." I thought about it, and no, I never refer to her or my other two kids as just White, though I occasionally refer to them as Black. More often we use "biracial", "mixed" (outdated & offensive to some, I believe) or "Black and White".

My response is that I let the kids pick their own identifiers and we've talked a lot about them so they know they can pick what they want, when they want. It's their right to decide who they are & how they present themselves. I know my daughter, especially, gets asked the race question (What are you?) often because she has White coloring, a mixture of features, and Black hair texture. She often has to defend that yes, she is in fact Black, because people (usually kids) don't believe her. She mostly says she is bi-racial, Black and White.

I tend to refer to my kids as Black when we're in a situation like the one above - where someone is not taking into account that they have someone non-White in their presence and are saying some foolish stuff. Now, I speak up whether they're with me or not, but making their presence known usually stops the speaking person in their tracks when they realize they're talking about someone actually in front of them.

I also told my friend that after thinking about it, if my kids call themselves Black, I don't feel as though they are denying their White side. But if they were to call themselves White, I would feel as though they are denying their Black side.

My friend is concerned that my perspective on this is adding to the "one drop" concept - that a single drop of Black blood negates a person's Whiteness. This is a concept that has been used to discriminate against people of mixed ancestry.

You all know that I care a lot about race, that I talk about it, learn about it, try very hard to grow and get rid of prejudices I've grown up with. What do you think about this, and how I've been viewing race in terms of how my kids identify, and how I identify them?

For myself, I think that my friend is right - I am bolstering that concept . . . but knowing that doesn't change how I perceive my kids' race. I'm not saying I won't work on changing this perception - I probably will. I'd like to know your thoughts, though.

Monday, July 23, 2012

I get a lot of praise at work. I’ve been really fortunate
to work for and with some high-profile people in my organization (though I
personally don’t have a fancy position), people who are great supervisors and
who give me many opportunities to shine. I do think that I do good work, but I
think my successes may seem more obvious because they are more visible. I think
many other people I work with deserve accolades as well and I actively work on
telling the leaders of our org about the great things others are doing as well
as suggesting that they be consulted or brought into projects.

An area where I’d like to improve is praising people to
their face. I’d like to tell my peers and those above me when I appreciate
something, and when I think they’ve done something well. It’s not that I never
do this, but I don’t do it as often as I’d like, and I often feel awkward about
it.

Monday, May 7, 2012

Friday afternoon after lunch I came back to my desk and emails
containing condolences and asking if I’d heard the news that Adam Yauch, MCA
from Beastie Boys, had died. The emails were from people who know that I’m a
Beasties fan.

****

I was eight or nine years old when I first heard the
Beasties. I lived in Wichita, Kansas and I was playing at my friend Livie’s
house. We listened to her License to Ill tape and jumped and danced around
her living room. Apparently it made an impression:

Check out item #4 - from 1987

In the summer after 8th grade, my friend
Bonnie showed me her new CD called Check Your Head with three skater-looking
dudes on the front. Beastie Boys? Oh hell
yes, let me listen to this! Raised by my parents on classic rock, oldies
and r&b, I had now expanded my musical tastes to include hip hop (“rap”
back then) and “alternative” music (remember when alternative was really
alternative?). CYH blew my mind: it mixed different music styles, it was more
mature than License to Ill but not so mature that my almost-in-high-school self
couldn’t relate to the lyrics/attitude. It set the standard for “cool”.

I eventually picked up Paul’s Boutique. I liked it, but
it didn’t knock me out the way it did for so many. *gasp* I know, I know. What kind of Beasties fan am I? When I
listened to it, it felt like they were regressing (though I might not have been
able to articulate that back then). The album was all samples, no instruments,
ridiculous topics. They were still kind of caricatures. But (and this is a big
but) (shut up) – the exploration was exhilerating. If I’d gotten to know Paul’s
Boutique before Check Your Head I’m sure it would have rocked my world, too.

By 1994, I had a number of friends who were also Beasties
fans. I’m sure we all dutifully ran out to buy Ill Communication as soon as it
was released. Check Your Head and Ill Communication became, for me, my life
soundtrack. Sure, there was other music. There was lots of other music. No
matter what other music there was, though, there was always Beastie Boys.

Me on the right at pom camp - "Beastie"

The Beasties were so cool. They were style and attitude
trend-setters. The obsession my generation has with pop culture and snark was
encouraged and often informed by Beastie music and interviews, yet they weren’t
concerned with being cool. Which is, of course, part of why they were cool.

I remember hearing “I’m shopping at Sears, ‘cause I don’t
buy at the Gap” for the first time and thinking, Crap. I love the Gap. Should I stop shopping there? I then thought,
Isn’t the point to not try to be like
everyone else, but to follow your own instinct? If I stop shopping somewhere
just because a Beastie told me to, isn’t that the opposite of what they’re are
all about? The opposite of what makes them so great? Though I didn't stop shopping at the Gap, I did start thinking about my impact as a consumer. I've never forgotten that lesson.

Beastie Boys impacted me musically, culturally. I’m young
enough that hip hop was already mainstream when I began listening to the
Beasties, so they didn’t open that door for me. They did, however, teach me to
seek out the history of the hip hop I was listening to, and to search for music
that wasn’t on the radio. They name-dropped so many people! I loved spending
time scouring magazines, books and liner notes, trying to figure out who they
were talking about. Oh yeah, I was a liner notes nerd (still am, though I
rarely buy real CDs anymore). I loved noticing a connection between a producer
on one musician’s album, and a songwriter on another, that sort of thing. When
I’d come across the name of someone that had an obscure mention in a Beasties
song – in a magazine, newspaper, book, etc. - I got such a thrill. I also loved
knowing about something and hearing it mentioned, like when
Ad-Rock says, “I’m not James at Fifteen or Chachi in Charge” in Hey Ladies. I
watched those shows! I knew who they were talking about!

Throughout my high school and college years, I remained
close with overlapping groups of people who were major Beasties fans. We played
their music constantly, discussed lyrics, went to concerts, explored the music
of other artists that the Beasties introduced us to. Being a Beasties fan was a
part of our identity. Not our whole identity, but a part of it.

My dorm room door on my birthday, 1997

Hello Nasty came out just a few months before I began
dating my husband, got pregnant and left college. After that major transition
in my life, I was “on hold” with music (and, well, everything that didn’t
involve surviving young parenthood & marriage). I didn’t have the money to
buy music or go to concerts and I didn’t hang out with my friends that much any
more – I was a mom and wife, they were still partying college kids. I listened
to Hello Nasty a lot but not the way I did with Check Your Head and Ill
Communication – and from that point on, I didn’t immerse myself in their later
albums. I purchased them, gave them a couple listens, but only pulled them out
occasionally (though I still listened to CYH & IC often). I felt guilty
about this, as though I was a bad fan for not devouring and loving everything
they did. It took me a while to get beyond that and realize that no one ever
asked me to be a “superfan” – the Beasties certainly never did – and again, the
perspectives they shared reminded me that life must be balanced. I watched them
evolve, should I not also be allowed to evolve?

I’m nostalgic about those years. My memories include
driving around with Ebony, looking for our friends (this was the day of the
pager, y’all, and we didn’t have one) and freaking out when the song switches
up in the middle of “Do It” . . . Andy letting me climb up onto his shoulders
at the Beasties/Tribe concert so I could see better – then he threw his hat
onstage and one of them put his hat on for a minute before tossing it back . .
. being given a onesie w/”Beastie Baby” embroidered on it when I was pregnant
with our first child . . . driving 3 hours by myself to and from my first
Beasties concert, alone because my friends couldn’t go at the last minute,
sneaking into the expensive floor seats . . . hours upon hours upon hours of
listening to their music – alone and with friends, usually at Elanor’s house .
. . Dev asking Peter and I who was the bigger Beasties fan, and Peter said I
was – and then I said I may have liked them longer, but he was the one who had
all the concert bootlegs . . . debating with Joel, Drew, Josh, Mike and Matt
about our favorite Beasties albums . . . performing a variety of Beasties songs
in lip-syncs with Katherine and Carla . . . getting mad at some kid because he
would not stop saying that Mike D’s brother is Dustin Diamond (Screech from
Saved By The Bell) . . . Lisa suggesting that we change one of our pom routine
songs to Brass Monkey, and it being a big hit . . .

I’d forgotten how much being a Beasties fan was a part of
my identity back then until I went to my 10-year high school reunion. Person
after person referred to my love for the Beasties. I was floored – I knew how
special they were to me but I didn’t realize everyone else did (and crap, I
hope I wasn’t obnoxious about it!).

I don’t know if I would be a hugely different person if
there had never been any Beastie Boys. I do know that I felt as if I knew them,
as if we could be friends. I felt as if they were cool and dorky and funny and
smart and silly and serious, like me. Like my friends. It is impossible for me
to remember those formative years in my life without also remembering the
Beasties.

So now – Adam Yauch is gone. It hurts. It hurts because
he was so young. It hurts because he had a family – extended and immediate. A
wife has lost her mate and a daughter has lost her father. It hurts because he was an advocate for Tibet and who is doing that now? It hurts because the
friendship and connection between the Beasties was so obvious and fascinating,
and lasted for so long. It hurts to think of how hard it must be for all the
people who knew him the ways fans never could. And yes – as a fan, it hurts. It
hurts because I’m far away from the friends who also loved the Beasties. It
hurts because I won’t ever get to see them together again. You know, they were
getting older, who knows how many more albums or tours they would have given
us? Possibly not many, or any. Maybe they were done. As a fan, I’m so, so
thankful for all the memories and all the music, and I believe it will sustain
me for the rest of my life. But I wanted more. I did. And it’s not gonna
happen.

Since Friday, I’ve already dug back into To the 5
Boroughs and Hot Sauce Committee Pt. 2 – and I’m listening with fresh ears. I’m
hearing stuff I really like – how did I miss it before? Why did it take a loss
like this for me to appreciate it? Why don’t I have The Mix-Up?

Thank you Adam, Adam and Mike, for creating the
soundtrack to my formative years. I almost feel silly for saying that, but I
think you will understand.

****

Side note, wasn’t sure where to fit it in the above:

Everyone talks about MCA’s verse in Sure Shot that
mentions the Beasties’ change in attitude toward their lyrics about women, and
women in general, I suppose. That’s great, no doubt! However, what I love about
Sure Shot is that it’s funky. I mean, really. The entire song is just
perfection. I think this word is overused, but it has swagger, you know? Ridiculous production and each Beastie shines on
their verses. This song is sexy. All of these attributes are present in Ad-Rock
which is a huge reason he’s my favorite.

Yes, I said I had a favorite. Look, y’all, this is what
happened. I was at a high school church youth group retreat and there was going
to be a talent show. My friends Katherine and Carla loved Beasties too, so we
decided to do a lip-sync to So Whatcha Want. When we were deciding which verses
we wanted, Carla said she wanted Ad-Rock before I said it, so she got him. And
I was salty. Secretly, though.
Katherine was an MCA fan so she was all good. I can’t remember if this was our
first, or second, but we went on to do a handful of lip-syncs together: Hey
Ladies, Sabotage, It Takes Two (Rob Base). For Sabatoge we wore suits, fake moustaches, sunglasses,
carried paintball guns, ran through the audience, rolled around on the floor,
jumped through doorways, busted in on a card game in the corner. So much fun.

Katherine is in Japan about to give birth. Maybe this is
reaching, but it just seems kind of special that she really appreciated MCA,
Beasties & Japan were tight, he died and she’s giving birth.

Anyway! In addition to what I’ve already said about
Ad-Rock, I think he has a great sense of humor, and I think the way he talks,
has conversations, is fascinating. I saw an interview of him on YouTube a while back where he’s talking about the tools he uses to write & record
music. He’d create some sounds, and sit there, geeking out, chair dancing. I
love that. That is me, that is my
friends.

Tuesday, April 24, 2012

I recently went home to Wichita, Kansas, to attend my
brother Andy’s wedding. He and his wife already were married two years ago by
the Justice of the Peace but this was their church wedding. Andy was a soldier
in Iraq and then went back for a couple years to work as a contractor, and
that’s where he met his wife Melody (aka Mhedz – pronounced like Meds). She is from
the Phillippines and was also working in Iraq as a contractor.

Melody & Andy

I met Mhedz a couple summers ago when she came along with
my Dad and Step-Mom (Andy’s Mom) for a visit to Chicago. We had a great time
and I was sad to see her go. She’s a total sweetheart, has a wicked sense of
humor, is full of energy, and loves kids. I always wanted a sister and am glad
that when I finally got one, she rocked!

After the Rehearsal (impromptu bachelor party w/no strippers - this is Andy, Elizabeth [cousin] and I)

Friday we had the wedding rehearsal, which was a comedy
of errors because hardly anyone knew what they were doing, most were unfamiliar with a
Catholic wedding ceremony, and the 90 minutes promised for practice &
guidance within the church was cut down to around 30 minutes. I think maybe the
church was double-booked as there were little girls in elaborate white dresses
all over the place – 23 people were being baptized that day! We ended up going
outside to practice everyone’s roles and joked about finding a Catholic wedding
that night to crash so we could watch someone else do it the right way.

Matron of Honor

Saturday was the wedding, and it was beautiful. The
matron of honor realized at the last moment that she wouldn’t be able to take
photos of the bridal party walking down the aisle because she was part of the
bridal party (they didn’t hire a professional photographer, preferring to use
everyone else’s candid shots) so she handed me her fancy camera & asked if
I could. I was suddenly filled with terror. I wasn’t worried that I wouldn’t
take good photos, but that I would be a distraction or that I’d do something
offensive because I’m unfamiliar with Catholic tradition. I got the shots,
though, and even when the matron of honor motioned me up onto the altar
(stage/pulpit area in the church) so I could shots of the vows/rings, and the
exchanging of coins (Filipino tradition), I did my job.

During the Mass

The camera took around 5 shots for every slight touch of
the button, and the shutter was very loud, so I tried to time my shots during
louder parts of the ceremony, like when the priest said something to the
congregation an they all responded to him. The pew I was sitting on also
creaked loudly every time I stood up & sat down (I only stood up to get
more shots when the matron of honor gave me “the look”) so eventually I just
stood against the wall so I would be less distracting that way. I wasn’t sure
if I was breaking rules by being up on/in the altar, as I know some churches
consider it offensive for anyone other than the pastor to walk in certain parts
of the pulpit. Later on I’d handed the camera back to the MOH & she went
right up onto the altar to get a shot of Andy & Mhedz kneeling, while the
priest was preparing for communion. I was mad at myself because I could have
been taking some great shots the whole time, but I’m still glad I didn’t commit
any religious blunders.

Beautiful bride!

Another part of the ceremony that is practiced in the
Phillippines is for the bride and groom to be covered in a veil & then for
a string of beads called a “lasso” to be draped over their heads. This
symbolizes their unity. Then while Mhedz and Andy were kneeling on the altar, Mhedz
sang a song. She was facing the priest and many of us in the congregation
thought the soloist up in the choir loft was the one who was singing, until we
finally realized it was Mhedz. She has a great voice and many of us (myself
included) got teary-eyed.

Slow-mo silliness wave

After the wedding we took photos of the wedding party
& then headed to the hotel for the reception. There was a great slideshow
of Andy, Mhedz, their families and their time together so far. The food was
great and the bar was open – enough said! Mhedz’s friend Angela was the host of
the evening, she had a schedule, a script, a microphone and the best
personality EVAR. She was hilarious and had no qualms about getting people to
follow along with whatever was going on – making toasts, playing games,
dancing.

Uhhh . . . where did those groomsmen go? SOMEONE ddidn't want to catch the garter.

Oh, the dancing. If you know me, you know I love to
dance, but it was my son Bennett whole stole the show (repeatedly) with his
dancing. He’s a serious ham, loves the spotlight, and wasn’t shy about
challenging the rest of us to dance battles. We Wobbled, we Shuffled, we Slid.
We even Boot Scootin’ Boogied . . . well, we tried, but no one could remember
how to do it. We sang into fake microphones on Journey songs, we Jumped Around,
we busted out our best Molly Ringwald and got Footloose.

Break. It. Down.

Then most people left
and there was a group of 20-30 somethings left to really break it down, and
that we did. I lost count of the number of times the other chicks and I went to
the bathroom or outside to cool down. We’d just rounded up the stray bottles of
champagne & were headed to the pool when . . . tornado sirens went off!

Good times during the tornado.

We (and all the other hotel guests) were directed to a
central, first-floor hallway on the interior of the hotel, where we sat on the
floor, drank champagne, ate whatever snacks people had brought from their
rooms, and tried to calm those who aren’t from the area & were freaked out.
We were out of danger as the tornado never came in our direction, but many of
us had family and friends or homes and jobs that were right in the path of the
storm. From what I’ve heard so far, those we know suffered minor damage &
power outages, but no one was injured or lost their home.

My brothers (Andy and Mike) are both military guys, and
Mike is also a firefighter/EMT, and they basically ran the entire situation at
the hotel because the staff didn’t know what they were doing. It’s great to
have people who are trained & experienced in crisis situations when you’re
faced with taking care of a large group of people, many of whom don’t know each
other, in the face of something dangerous like a tornado. Mhedz sat next to me
in the hallway, in her swimsuit & coverup, saying the funniest stuff. She’d
barely eaten but people kept handing her champagne all night, so she was a
little loopy. We all said that no one will ever forget this wedding!

TOO LATE

It was a super fun couple of days, the MOST fun wedding
I’ve been to, and I’m really glad I was able to be a part of it all!

Wednesday, April 18, 2012

In one of the racism discussion sessions recently at work, we were talking about the different levels of awareness and understanding we all bring to these sort of discussions, and to the broader experience of our graduate school. We were discussing how we often have to slow down or “soften” a discussion about racism or privilege so that White students will feel comfortable participating. A Black, female student was asking why we have to do so much “hand holding” when it comes to these topics. A White male student responded. (I’m about to paraphrase):

“I come from an area that isn’t diverse at all. I had zero knowledge about diversity before I moved to Chicago to go to school here. So when I get here, start school, it’s overwhelming. I’m faced with learning about things I didn’t know existed, things I didn’t know were problems. As I learn more, it’s really hard. I feel guilt, I think about things I’ve said or done in the past. It’s emotional. I’m not saying that we shouldn’t learn about them, I’m just saying – when you come from where I come from, it’s overwhelming. That’s why I think you get a better response when you don’t come at it so hard. When it’s in your face, when people are pushing at you, you just shut down and stop listening. That’s just the way people work. If you want them to listen you can’t shove it in their face.”

The Black female student responded (again, I’m paraphrasing). “I think what you’re saying is evidence of your White privilege. When I’m out in the world, and when I come here and am sometimes the only student of color in my classes, when I’m the only African American student in my Diversity class, no one slows down for me. I don’t get to say, ‘Wait, this is too much for me. This is emotional for me and I’m not ready to deal with this yet. Please slow down.’ I don’t get to say those things, and the world doesn’t care. They just throw it in my face. You have the luxury of asking the people around you to slow down on a difficult topic because you’re not used to it, it causes you pain, you feel guilt, you need to process, it’s overwhelming. I don’t get any of that. This is in my face all the time and there is no slowing down for me so I can learn how to handle it at my own pace. I just have to deal with it.”

The students really listened to each other and considered what each other were saying. That gives me hope.

About Me

I'm a married, working mother of 3. In my daydream life I have a horse ranch in Colorado where I live when not touring small clubs, because, you know, I'm a singer-songwriter. In real life I work in higher ed in Chicago, dabble with sewing and knitting for my Etsy shop, and keep saying that THIS will be the year I teach myself to play the guitar. I get hot & bothered by music, dance, social justice and stuff that makes me laugh.